


a christmas carol

by written_you_down



Category: Bastille (Band)
Genre: M/M, all of my christmas fics and all of your christmas fics we post them one by one, dan ebenezer smith, i'd rather be the ghost that annoys you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27857989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/written_you_down/pseuds/written_you_down
Summary: “Dan. I’m the ghost of Christmas past,” Woody paused. “Maybe I should’ve led with that.”
Relationships: Charlie Barnes/Dan Smith
Comments: 13
Kudos: 13





	a christmas carol

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> happy christmas, friend! :)))

Under normal circumstances, Dan fucking adored Christmas. 

Christmas was one of the few days that he absolutely refused to work. It was the one day of the year where he always knew exactly where he would be and who he would be with.

Not that he was complaining—really, he _wasn’t_ —but the last decade of his life had been complete chaos. He worked non-stop, in places all over the world. So much work, so much travel, that he had hired two people to help keep it all squared away. Dan didn’t take days off; he was determined to make the most of it while he could. 

However, this particular year had brought all of it to a grinding halt. A virus that had begun with a laughable name had changed everything about his life. 

Dan hadn’t realized how much he had leaned on Christmas supper with as many relatives as could be gathered under one roof until he no longer had it. 

Dan couldn’t risk going to his parents’ home this Christmas. The Prime Minister had not outright forbidden it, but had strongly frowned upon it. As much as he wanted to see his family, he was staying at his flat, alone. His flatmates had gone away for the holiday. Neither had siblings and both would be in small groups while they visited their parents. Being the lovely mates that they were, both had asked Dan along, but he declined.

He didn’t want to intrude and he didn’t want to pretend to be happy.

Happiness had always been a fickle friend to Dan, anyway. Sometimes they were the best of pals and other times they didn’t speak for weeks at a time. 

Dan _had_ been happy before all of this. 

He was doing something he loved. He was making music with a band that had become his second family. Dan knew he could depend on them for any and everything—there was always a shoulder to lean on, a raised glass to toast with. 

That had been taken away as well.

In the past year (fuck—it had been a _year_ already) he had seen the guys less than a handful of times. They had become faces on a screen. Which, yes, was better than nothing, but it didn’t compare to seeing them under stage lights or the especially atrocious fluorescent lighting of a petrol station at a random 2 AM fuel stop. 

So, no family for Dan this Christmas, no flatmates, no band. And of course, no significant other. (He couldn’t bring himself to declare that he was without a boyfriend, though it was very, very true — it made him feel like a fourteen-year-old girl to state it aloud.) Seriously. Fuck this year _and_ Christmas.

His being single wasn’t due to a lack of feelings for a certain someone. If the covid lockdown had taught Dan anything, it was that he would walk out of his door and _run_ to fucking Lichfield, if he thought it would actually make a difference.

But there was a pandemic. 

It was Christmas Eve and stupid late. 

And he wasn’t sure at all that Charlie loved him like that. 

—

“Oi, Dan. Wake up, mate.”

Dan wiped the sleep from his eyes and focused on the person who sat at the end of his sofa. “Woody? What the—“

“In the flesh. Well, sort of, at any rate.” Woody smiled and held his hands up. It was only then that Dan realized that Woody was somehow solid and transparent at the same time.

“Oh god. Woody, are you dead?” Dan stammered and sat up quickly.

“What? Dan. No. They just thought it would be easier for you to understand if they sent me first. Said I would be the most comforting. Which is flattering…” Woody trailed off when he noticed the fear on Dan’s face. “Real life me is completely fine. I’m at home, trying to build a ridiculously complicated castle for my kid’s Christmas. The damn thing has a drawbridge.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Reckon they need it to get across the moat.”

“No. I understand that bit. I—“

Woody laughed. “Right. Technically there’s a speech they want me to give, but the short of it is that I’m here because you hate Christmas.”

“I don’t hate—“

“Did you or did you not say F-word Christmas?”

“Oh.”

“Oh. So now you’ve got to go through the whole thing. Those are the rules. Sorry. My invisible hands are tied.” He grinned widely.

“The whole thing? I don’t follow,” Dan felt as if he was a million steps behind Woody.

“Dan. I’m the ghost of Christmas past,” Woody paused. “Maybe I should’ve led with that.”

Woody snapped his fingers and everything changed. 

—

They were now standing in a room that was heavily lined with wood paneling, a grey carpet underneath their feet. Against the wall stood a giant Christmas tree that had been clumsily decorated with what seemed to be a hundred ornaments. The star atop the highest bough was off-centered and the tree leaned a bit to the left. 

Dan stared at Woody. “I don’t understand. This isn’t my past. I don’t recognize anything here.”

“Take a good look around the room, mate. You might change your mind about that.” Woody sat down in a well-worn reclining chair, which immediately settled around him. He seemed right at home. Woody’s eyes grew wide as he noticed the toys underneath the tree. “Look at that racetrack! I bet that took all of ten minutes to assemble. I should be so lucky.”

Dan walked over to a bookcase that was lined with framed family photographs. They were all of a family of four. He picked one up and studied the boy in the picture. Dan immediately recognized the child’s toothy smile. He glanced up at the mantel and noticed the stockings waiting to be filled by Saint Nick. He wasn’t surprised to see the name Charlie written across the top of one of them.

“We’re at Charlie’s.” He looked at Woody. “Why?”

“Suppose there’s something here you’re meant to see.”

“You don’t know? Shouldn’t you—“

“It’s not an exact science. They don’t tell—” Woody paused and listened. “They’re coming.”

They both watched in silence as a very young Charlie and his older sister entered the room. Charlie took it full sprint and skidded to a stop in front of the gifts. His older sister was walking slowly, attempting a much more composed approach though the expression of joy on her face betrayed her attempt at being cool. 

“Jane! Look at this! A race track!” Charlie immediately set to playing with it.

Charlie’s parents had entered the room and were watching the scene in front of them with looks of love. Even though they didn’t seem to be able to see him, Dan felt a bit intrusive for glimpsing this part of their lives. He looked instead to Charlie who was, unsurprisingly, an adorable kid.

“Charlie, have you looked to the back of the tree yet? There might be something else there,” Charlie’s mum suggested gently. 

Charlie honest-to-goodness scampered at her words. He froze and yelled with glee at what he found there. 

“What is it, Charlie? Show us,” his dad encouraged with a smile.

Charlie walked slowly and in his arms carried a small acoustic guitar. He seemed to be in awe of it and held it with great care. 

“What do you think?” his mum asked. “Do you like it?”

Charlie’s split in half with a gigantic smile. “I love it.”

Dan was reminded of a scene from a film that his nephews made him watch every Christmas. In the scene the Grinch, who loathes Christmas, changes his mind about all of it and feels his heart grow within his chest. Dan had always found that to be a bit much, but suddenly got it.

His heart was so full that it almost hurt as he watched the scene in front of him. 

This was Charlie’s first guitar. He had told Dan all about it: how Charlie had been certain he wouldn’t get it because the guitar cost so much money. Of how his parents most likely had to save to buy it for him. Charlie _adored_ that guitar. It changed his life.

Thinking of it now, Dan realized that the guitar and this Christmas in particular had changed his own life. Both of those things had eventually led to Charlie auditioning for the band. Both had brought Charlie into Dan’s world and made everything better for it.

Dan turned towards Woody. “I get it. I know why we’re here.”

“Brilliant. Because we’re out of time. I’ve got to take you back.”

Dan looked back at Charlie and his guitar. “Surely we can stay a little while longer.” He fixed Woody with his most plaintive stare. “It is Christmas, after all.”

“Just a few more minutes. That’s all I can give you.” Woody sighed. “I can’t believe you pulled the bloody ‘it’s Christmas’ line with the Ghost of Christmas Past. Who does that?”

—

Dan and Woody landed on Dan’s sofa with a thud. Standing across the room, leaning against the wall was a semi-transparent Will. 

“You lot are late,” he observed. 

“It was Dan’s fault,” Woody replied. 

“I figured as much.”

Dan frowned. It was rubbish enough that these two gave him so much grief in real life, he wasn’t sure he had to take it from their ghost forms as well. 

“I should leave you to it,” Woody nodded. He walked towards Will and patted the top of his shoulder amicably. 

“Good luck with that moat,” Will smirked.

Woody raised his left middle finger in Will’s direction as he evaporated and then disappeared from view. 

“Show off,” Will muttered. He turned towards Dan who was still staring where Woody had stood seconds before. “Oh come on, Dan. It wasn’t _that_ impressive. We all learned that move on day one. Standard fare, really.”

Dan blinked. “There are ghost… classes? What are those like?”

“They’re not what you’re picturing—“

“You don’t know what I—“

“A bunch of ghosts, sitting at our little ghost desks, with our ghost pencils in hand, ready to take our spooky ghost notes? Does that about cover it?”

Dan scowled.

“Right. I thought as much. Also, I can sort of read your mind.” Will lifted his hands and wiggled his fingers at Dan. “Oooohh, spooky-scary, yeah?”

“You can not. Woody didn’t mention that.” Dan was determined to keep equal footing. 

“That doesn’t surprise me, but that doesn’t make it not true.”

“Well,” Dan lifted his chin. “If it’s true, then what am I thinking about right now?”

“Charlie.” Will smirked. “It’s almost always Charlie. You could at least try and challenge me.” He tilted his head and then glanced at Dan. “Now you’re thinking impolite things about me being smug and of… alligators. Nice one.” 

“Fuck. Fine. Ok. So you can read my thoughts. Congratulations. It’s a horror show in my head, but you’re more than welcome to join in.” 

Dan watched Will reach towards him with his ghost hand and then felt Will pat him on the back. “There, there Dan. I’m actually here to help with that. You see,” he paused theatrically for effect. “I am the ghost of Christmas present.”

“Great,” Dan muttered.

“It is, isn’t it?” Will grinned. “I’ll spare you the speech as I’m sure Woody has already explained everything—“

“He hasn’t. I have no idea—“

“And we’ll just get on with it, shall we?”

Will snapped his fingers and suddenly they were standing in Charlie’s flat. Luna was laying in her fluffy dog bed and lifted her head at their arrival. Her tail lifted for a few sleepy wags before she lowered her chin and closed her eyes. 

“I’m freaking out a bit,” Dan looked frantically at Will. “I don’t know if I want to see what you’re about to show me.”

“What do you think you’ll see? What scares you the most?” Will asked conversationally. 

“Dunno.”

“Yes, you do. If you don’t tell me, I’ll just look in your head and—“

“I’m scared that he’s with someone. That there’s some bloke here that just showed up wearing a bow, waiting on Charlie to unwrap him.”

Will frowned. “Your brain, Dan. it’s quite something.” He shook his head. “I can’t tell you. You’ll have to see for yourself. Go on then, go into the next room.”

Dan worked up the nerve to walk up to the door that led to Charlie’s bedroom and then froze when he heard voices. “He’s _talking_ to someone!” he whispered-yelled.

“He can’t hear you,” Will said loudly. “No need to be so secretive about any of it.”

“Still. We should go. It’s late. He has a guest… in his bedroom. I don’t want to intrude. I—“

“You sound like my Gran right now. This is not the time to suddenly be proper. Get in there.”

Dan had all but decided to follow Will’s commands when a peal of laughter rang out from the next room. Dan’s heart sank at the sound of it. While Dan was technically alone on this Christmas Eve, having the trippiest, dumbest dream of all time, Charlie was with someone who clearly brought him a great deal of joy. 

Dan turned to walk away, but Will hooked a ghosty arm around him and began to drag him to the bedroom. 

“I take that back about my Gran. She wouldn’t have stood for this. She would have kicked this damn door down to get to the man she loved.”

“So she’s more badass than I am? Who isn’t?” 

Dan glanced at Will and stopped struggling against him after seeing the look on his face. For a second, Dan worried that Will might snap his fingers and leave him standing in the hallway alone. He shrugged Will’s spooky arm off of his back and straightened. “Alright. Fine. Let’s not make such a fuckin fuss over it.” 

“After you, my dear.”

Dan shot a look at Will as he entered Charlie’s room. He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw that Charlie was on a video chat with his sister, Jane. Glancing around the space, he confirmed there were no blokes wrapped in bows anywhere to be seen.

Jane’s voice interrupted Dan’s thoughts as she half-heartedly argued with Charlie.

“You should just _tell_ him how you feel. It’s Christmas. If you can’t tell him the truth on Christmas, when can you tell him?”

Charlie huffed. “You sound like one of those ridiculously over-the-top cheeseball holiday films. That isn’t how real life works, Jane.”

“You love him don’t you?”

“Jane.”

“Don’t you?”

Charlie sighed. “Of course I do, but it’s not that simple. I can’t just gift wrap myself, show up on his doorstep and claim that jolly ole Saint Nick meant for me to be his Christmas miracle.”

Will leaned over and just beside Dan’s ear wondered, “What is _with_ the two of you and gift wrapping?”

“Shhhh!” Dan hushed. 

Will lifted his transparent hands up in mock surrender. 

Jane sighed at Charlie’s reaction. “You are so dramatic. No one is suggesting that. Just— you could have invited him round today. Or for Christmas supper tomorrow. Even with him there, we’re still under whatever random number Boris has deemed appropriate for gatherings this week.”

“You say that as if he doesn’t have family or people of his own. He has tons of other options.”

“You— you are his people.”

“He doesn’t see me that way,” Charlie insisted. 

“You’ll never know if you don’t tell him. Isn’t he worth it? Worth being brave for?”

Charlie ran his hand over the top of his hair and rubbed the back of his head as he considered her words. He took a breath and then looked back at his sister. “He’s worth— well. He’s everything. I, I guess I could try, couldn’t I?”

Dan was hanging on every line of the exchange. He felt that they were seconds away from revealing who it was that Charlie loved when Will suddenly snapped his fingers and Charlie’s room melted away. 

Dan found that they were suddenly in a grand exhibition hall. He gaped as he realized that they were surrounded by dinosaur skeletons, skulls and fossils.

“Will, what the fuck? What does the Natural History Museum have to do with my Christmas-present? What am I supposed to learn—,“ he gestured wildly “—from all of this?”

Will smiled serenely. “Oh, it’s nothing to do with you, I just like dinosaurs.” He glanced around the room and sighed. “Though it hasn’t been the same since Dippy left…”

“Dippy!?! You want to talk about Dippy when Charlie was about to say who it was that he, that he…“

“Who he was desperately in love with?” Will finished. “Do you really not know?”

“How should I—wait. Do you know?”

“Of course, I do. Literally everyone in the universe knows the answer to that, aside from you. It’s why I’m flying the two of us about London like Peter bloody Pan.”

Dan stared helplessly at Will. “I just need you to tell me. Please.”

Will shook his head. “That is something you’ll have to work out for yourself.” 

He snapped his fingers and the dinosaurs faded away to nothing.

—

When they arrived back at Dan’s flat, a translucent Kyle was sitting at Dan’s piano. His ghost hands were adorned with rings and were rapidly moving across the keyboard playing a tune that sounded suspiciously like Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You.” He finished playing the chorus before he turned to face Dan and Will.

“You’re back! How lovely. How _is_ the present going?”

Will snorted. “Do you ever grow tired of reminding me that you’re from the future? It’s not as if the future is so much better.”

Kyle’s teeth flashed through his beard as he grinned. “Well, you wouldn’t know, now would you? You’ve never been there.”

“Wanker,” Will said with no malice. 

“Don’t act as if you don’t adore me, William.” He stood from Dan’s piano bench, walked over to Will, and pulled him into a giant hug. Will returned the hug for exactly two seconds before he began to dissipate. Kyle was left embracing an armful of empty air. “That effer _always_ ghosts on me when I hug him. But you saw him. He hugged back.” He glanced at Dan who nodded in agreement. “Progress.”

Kyle stood tall and straightened his jumper (which naturally, was Christmas-themed—Dan expected no less from Kyle) . “So, Daniel. Here we are. I’m sure you’ve worked this out by now, but I’m the ghost of Christmas Future. Weird night, yeah? How are you holding up?” 

Dan eyed him wearily. He was always glad to see Kyle, but this night was starting to wear. “Do I have to use words? Can’t you just read my mind?”

“Can I—wait. What? No, I can’t read your mind. Did someone tell you that they could?”

“Will.”

Kyle laughed. “That piece of trash. I love it. He can’t read your mind.”

“But he- he could, he knew—“

“Let me guess, he said you were thinking about Charlie.”

Dan’s face flushed.

Kyle smiled gently. “It was only a guess. You do think of him a lot…”

“But he also knew about the alligator.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow. “Huh. Weird. Though, yeah. I will most definitely check with my superiors and see if telepathy is a thing ghosts-of-Christmas-present can do now. Pretty sure not. He’s not really allowed to do anything interesting.”

Dan was tired, so tired. He was desperate for this horrid year, this botched holiday season, and now this endless night to draw a close. “Kyle, can we please just get through whatever this is?”

“Sure, mate.” Kyle rolled his neck from left to right, as if he were trying to loosen a particularly bothersome knot. “Fair warning, though. You might find it a bit glum.” 

Kyle snapped his fingers and they were standing in a familiar place. Dan took in his surroundings, “We’re at Jack’s.”

“That is correct.”

“But…” Dan’s eyes scanned the walls and the shelves. “These are new… Kyle. That’s a fucking Grammy.” He squinted and read the plaque on the base of the trophy. “A Grammy that has my fucking name on it.”

“Also correct.”

“I thought you said this would be glum.” 

Kyle didn’t reply. He simply stepped to the side and let Dan wander around the room. Dan couldn’t believe how many awards there were. They seemed to be everywhere. He moved in front of the glass that separated the recording space from the soundboards and froze. There on the other side of the wall sat future-Dan, headphones on and clearly immersed in his work.

Dan felt Kyle settle next to his side. Together they stared at future-Dan carry on as if he were alone. Dan studied his face. He didn’t seem much older, but there were several new wrinkles etched into his face and dark circles underneath his eyes.

“When is this?”

Kyle shrugged. “It’s hard to say exactly. Management never gives me the dates, aside from Christmas day. Usually it’s easy to tell with you— your hair always gives you away.”

“How’d you mean?”

Kyle smirked. “Your penchant for having a specific haircut or hair colour for whatever era of music you’re currently working on. It’s quite helpful actually.” He narrowed his eyes and studied future-Dan. “Too bad future-you is wearing a cap.”

Dan had no defense for that. He took a mental note to perhaps rethink his hair choices when he was back into his present time. He watched as his future self jotted a couple of notes down on some loose sheets of paper before focusing his attention back to the soundboard. “Wonder what I’m working on? It looks like I’ve been buried in here for days. Look at all the take out containers.”

“You _have_ been here for days. You usually are.”

“So I’m still working in music. Nothing glum about that, mate. Are you sure you’ve taken me to the right place?”

Kyle bristled. “Of course I have! Do I need to spell this out for you?”

Dan stared at him blankly.

“Dan. It’s Christmas day.”

“Oh.”

Kyle nodded. “Oh.”

“I’m working on Christmas day.”

“Correct.”

“Alone.” Dan looked at Kyle. “But surely—surely I’m going somewhere after this?”

Kyle gazed at Dan with a bit of sadness in his eyes. He snapped his transparent fingers and they were standing in Dan’s flat. 

Dan slowly turned in a circle as he took it in. “It’s the same flat.”

“Sort of. Go take the tour.”

Dan went from room to room and realized that his flatmates had moved out and on. He lived by himself. He pulled open wardrobes and doors and only found evidence of only his own clothes. He wasn’t sharing his life with anyone—no significant other. No Charlie. When he returned to Kyle, he saw that his future self had joined them. He watched as the future-Dan sat down on the sofa and began to watch the telly. 

“I don’t have anyone in my life? No one I can share Christmas with?” Dan looked to Kyle and was suddenly embarrassed—that his life seemed empty, that his eyes were suddenly damp.

Kyle pulled him close and it felt surreal. It was like being hugged and not hugged at the same time. “People are in your life. They do care about you. But you, you haven’t time for them with your work being what it is. So they just… well, they live their lives without you in it.”

Dan stepped back from Kyle. “And what about, about Charlie? Can you show me—“

Kyle shook his head. “No. I’m sorry. I can only show you this.”

They watched as future-Dan laid down on the sofa and stretched on his side. He was clearly settling in for a long while, with no intentions of leaving to do anything else. As he moved, his cap fell off of his head.

“I get it. Can we go? I don’t want to watch this,” Dan turned to face Kyle. “It’s too depressing.”

“You can change it, you know,” Kyle said. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“I can?”

“Of course. Come on. We’ll leave and talk it over.” Kyle went to snap his fingers but just before he did, he took a final glimpse at future-Dan. “Ah. It’s the blue-hair-era. I know exactly what year it is.”

—

Dan gaped at Kyle as he landed in his flat, back in current time. “Not that I give a fuck about how my hair looks—“

“Oh clearly not, given the effort you put into creating an entire look around an album,” Kyle noted dryly.

“But, my hair. It was _blue_!”

“Well. It is your darkest timeline, after all.” Kyle sighed. “About that, fix it, will you? I can’t leave here, knowing that’s where you’re heading.”

“Wha— the blue—“

“All of it, Dan. All of it.” 

Dan wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but Kyle seemed to be growing fainter as he spoke. “Are you leaving? Now?”

Kyle glanced at his disappearing body. “Unfortunately. Yes.”

“But how do I, I set it right?”

Kyle was practically an outline as he gave his parting words. “Take the advice I’ve been giving you for years. Fucking tell Charlie how you feel. Call. Him.” 

Dan blinked and Kyle was gone. 

—

Dan awoke as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over his head. He jerked and pulled himself out of bed, his chest heaving as he breathed. He reached for his phone, to check the date and found that it was December 25th. It was half past nine; he had slept for hours. He walked over to his window and watched as flakes of snow gently dropped from the sky. 

It was pristine and not meant to be viewed alone, Dan was certain of it. Jaw set, he went to his washroom in a hurry to catch up with the day. He had a few things to do around the flat and then, well, he had a train to take.

—

Dan pulled his scarf tightly around his neck, made sure the buttons on his coat were all fastened and checked for his wallet and keys. Everything was in place. There was nothing keeping him from leaving—nothing but his own nerves. He’d sort through them on the way as best he could. It was now or never.

He opened his door, expecting to be met with a face full of wind and snow, but found something else entirely—something infinitely better.

Charlie.

Charlie, with snowflakes in his hair, a grin in his eyes and a hesitant smile on his face. 

For the first time in his life, Dan didn’t waste a moment with thought or analysis. 

Dan reached over, cupped his hands around Charlie’s jaw and kissed him. It was a soft, gentle thing, but there was no doubt or caution within it. Charlie was still for a split second before he reached up, grasped the lapels of Dan’s coat and kissed him back. 

And fuck, there went Dan’s heart again, growing too large for his chest.

Dan was reminded of the events of the night before. It had seemed like utter nonsense— the idea that Dan was a giant green Grinch, an Ebenezer Scrooge in need of a lesson. But finding Charlie on Christmas morning, fitting perfectly against him with the snow all around them was making Dan believe in all sorts of things.

When Dan drew back, he grinned at Charlie like a fool. 

“What was that for— are we standing under mistletoe?” Charlie wondered, looking a bit dazed.

“No mistletoe,” Dan confirmed. “It was just because, because I’ve always wanted to.” He watched as the words registered on Charlie’s face.

“Always?”

Dan nodded. “Come inside, we’ll figure it out. I mean, if you want…”

“I very much want.” Charlie smiled and Dan watched laughter lines branch out from around his eyes. “But, am I keeping you from something? You were clearly on your way out.”

“I was on my way to you, Charlie. Only here you are, at my doorstep like some sort of Christmas miracle.”

Charlie’s eyes widened and his laughter rang out with a puff that was visible in the winter air. “Here I was about to make a Christmas miracle joke and now you’ve beaten me to it. How’d you know?”

“Dunno. I must have dreamed it.” Dan reached over to fidget with the woolen scarf that was twisted in a knot around Charlie’s neck. “Am I dreaming now?”

“I can assure you that this is all very real.” Charlie moved closer to Dan and added, “Happy Christmas,” before he leaned up and gently bumped his nose against Dan’s.

Dan absolutely fucking _adored_ Christmas.

**Author's Note:**

> -special thanks to [heartbreakordeath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartbreakordeath/pseuds/heartbreakordeath) for the beta read.
> 
> -and thank you to all who listened to me fangirl / get hype about the "december project". I'm so glad it's finally here and can't wait to share a bunch of new stories this month. :D


End file.
